Rosie Swanson: Fourth-Grade Geek for President by Barbara Park Page B

myself it was no big deal, you know? ’Cause Billie Ray was so important to my campaign and all. Plus, Anna’s mother could get the gum off her dress pretty easy, probably. Which doesn’t mean that I felt good about it or anything. I’m just telling you what I was thinking.
    After recess, Billie Ray Carver stopped by my desk. “Did you see that, Swanson?” he asked. “Man, girls are such
suckers
.”
    I tried not to breathe in his air. “Yeah, well, if girls are such suckers, then how come you’re voting for one?” I asked.
    For a second, he looked really confused. Then he looked down at my campaign button on his stomach and started to laugh.
    “What? Are you crazy? Just because you have the grossest campaign buttons doesn’t mean I’d ever
vote
for you. News flash, Swanson. You’re a four-eyed, geeky girl. No boy in his right mind would vote for you. And anyway, in case youhaven’t heard, Alan Allen is going to get us pizza and Coke on Fridays.”
    Then Billie Ray Carver leaned so close to me that billions of his cooties poured into my nostrils.
    “Allllan … Allllan … Allllan … Allllan … Allllan,” he said over and over.
    Judith Topper spun around in her chair and joined in.
    “Allllan … Allllan … Allllan … Allllan,” they said together. And they just kept it up and kept it up until I didn’t think I could stand it one more second.
    Where was Mr. Jolly? Why wasn’t he in the room yet?
    “Allllan … Allllan … Allllan …”
    They wanted me to cry. I know they did. I didn’t do it, though. The inside of my throat ached from trying to hold back the tears, but I still didn’t cry.
    And then all of a sudden, this really weird thing happened. One of my hands snuck into my desk and started feeling all around in there. And then—way in the back, under my geography workbook—it finally found what it was looking for.My fingers touched my yellow notepad.
    The one I write secret notes on when it’s necessary to tattle to the teacher.
    I smiled a little.
    I was getting an idea.

8 MOON MEN
    It didn’t take long before I had come up with a plan. It was all so simple, I wondered why I hadn’t thought of it before.
    The voters had a job to do, but they just weren’t doing it. Mrs. Munson had told them to find out as much as they could about the candidates so they could choose the best person for the office. But instead of caring about our backgrounds, kids like Billie Ray Carver were going to vote for Alan Allen just because he was a boy. And—even worse—kids like Judith Topper were voting for him because of a pizza idea that he practically stole from me.
    Alan was a thief. And I was honest. How much clearer could it be?
I
was the better choice for president, not
him
. And if the voters weren’t going to find out the truth about Alanfor themselves, I would just have to help them out a little.
    As soon as the coast was clear, I pulled out my notepad and wrote four short notes. They were all exactly the same:
    Dear Fourth Grade Friend,
    Alan Allen stole Rosie Swanson’s campaign ideas. Also, he stole a soccer ball from Mort’s Sports. Is this really the kind of person you want to elect for president of the fourth grade?
    Sincerely yours,
    The Committee Who Wants You to Be a Good Voter
    I folded each one separately and stuffed it deep into my skirt pocket. Knowing what I was about to do made me scared and excited at the same time. After school, I would secretly deliver one note to each fourth-grade classroom. After that, the gossip would spread like wildfire. And—aslong as I was careful—no one would ever know that it was me who started it all.
    Suddenly, a brilliant idea popped into my head.
Disguise the notes, Rosie
.
    Yes!
I thought.
Of course!
If I disguised the notes, no one would be able to tell they were from me.
    I pulled them out of my pocket and hid them on my lap. Then carefully, I opened each one up and I dotted all the
i
’s with the little hearts.